


Satin Sanity

by Kalla_Moonshado, medivhthecorrupted



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Deep Sea Satin, Fluff, Gift, IC conversation inspired, Khadgar makes up for long day, M/M, Medivh has a long day, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:44:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalla_Moonshado/pseuds/Kalla_Moonshado, https://archiveofourown.org/users/medivhthecorrupted/pseuds/medivhthecorrupted
Summary: Medivh has been sending Khadgar Deep Sea Satin from his travels and adventures.Khadgar makes good use of said satin.Medivh has a bad day - and Khadgar makes it better.For Sigurdjarlson - Happy Birthday :D





	Satin Sanity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sigurdjarlson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigurdjarlson/gifts).



> The italicized snippet is a modified conversation between medivhthecorrupted's in-game Medivh, and my in-game Khadgar.

Satin Sanity

It had taken hours. One of the laboratories was now shaded in interesting colors (considering the heat had been just a little too high on attempts one through four and the vats had bubbled over, then exploded – just a little), but Khadgar finally found a dye concentration that Deep Sea Satin would take. And _hold_.

Several bolts of deepest vermillion now lay ready, as well as a few soft blue,  a few in black, and a few that had been bleached to a soft cream.

He had been surprised at this new cloth Medivh had brought him from Kul Tiras. He smiled as he stroked one of the vermillion bolts with his fingers, his eyes closing.

 

_“Did you get the fabric I sent you?” Medivh asked, leaning back a little in the grass, his eyes on the nearby waterfall that masked their conversation from others as well as providing a soothing backdrop to their moment of rest._

_Khadgar smiled. “I did – and thank you. I – I am not sure what to do with the satin yet, though I admit it is lovely.”_

_Medivh chuckled softly. “I’m certain you’ll figure something out.”_

_“Perhaps,” Khadgar said thoughtfully, pursing his lips. “I honestly would not mind a robe made of it. Or bedding for that matter. I have not checked to see if it will take dye, though. If it does…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing in thought._

_“Blue dye, I take it?” Medivh asked, interrupting the younger mage’s thoughts._

_Khadgar looked up and blushed, pulling up a handful of grass and idly picking it apart in his fingers. “Ah. Blue. Or red. Or black. Perhaps something in a deep vermillion…” he trailed off again, his eyes roaming over Medivh’s body._

_“You don’t need to make me a robe, Young Trust.”_

_Khadgar’s blush darkened. “I wasn’t thinking of a robe, actually,” he mumbled._

_Medivh lifted an eyebrow. “Not a robe? What then? Oh…” he smiled, a touch of wickedness in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were thinking of… well… um. Undergarments?”_

_Khadgar shook his head quickly, dusted off his hands and dug in his satchel for a swatch of the cloth in question, holding it out to Medivh. It gleamed in the afternoon sun, highlights and shadows pronounced as it moved in the breeze. “Just think of this turned into bedding.”_

_Medivh reached out to run his fingers along the fabric. “Oh…” His fingers pinched at the fabric, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger, then stroked it, causing Khadgar to blush again. “Oh yes. This would make lovely bedding. It feels cool to the touch.” He looked up at Khadgar. “Did you enchant it, or did it come like this already?”_

_Khadgar shrugged. “I just cleaned and brushed it. Nothing more.”_

_“Hmm… I look forward to sleeping upon this when we return home.” Medivh’s expression turned thoughtful, though in a way that made Khadgar’s blushes return in full force._

_Khadgar took a long breath to cool those blushes. “Oddly, it’s cool when it’s warm, but in colder areas, it is warm,” he explained, to turn his own thoughts away from what could be done against bedding made of the satin. “Lounge robes and bedding – we would not have to pile on blankets in the cold, or be tempted to sleep on the roof in the heat. It would temper even the most extreme temperatures.”_

_Medivh ran his fingers along the satin again, his head canting a little to one side. “I wonder how well this would work in Vol’dun,” he mused. “That desert is scorching.”_

_Khadgar smiled, brightening a little. “I will test it for dye fastness, then. A cooler color for the desert perhaps. Cream or pale tans…” he trailed off, then went quiet for a long moment, fingering the swatch in his hands._

_Medivh watched him quietly for several minutes, then broke into those thoughts. “Copper for your thoughts?” he asked softly._

_Khadgar sighed. “It’s… odd. The world is falling apart around us, and I’m concerned about making lounge robes and bedding.” His tone was mildly disgusted, clearly with himself, though his eyes were on the fabric in his hands._

_Medivh looked at him, his expression softening a little. “We all must take pleasure in something in order to keep our sanity in all this madness.”_

_Khadgar frowned, understanding the logic in his former master’s words, but feeling as though he deserved none of the pleasure for the work he has done. “I… I suppose…” he said, slowly, sounding as though he didn’t believe them._

_Medivh leaned over to kiss him, the gesture tender and sweet. “You are my sanity.”_

He went to work at once when he had returned home, laden with even more of the satin cloth that Medivh had found. He had designs in mind for lounge robes for them both, a wrap-robe for Medivh for the desert, and of course, the bedding.

He smiled as he carried the bolts into the room Medivh had dedicated to sewing, when he chose to do so. Now, the room was usually full of Khadgar’s projects, tailoring becoming a fast hobby of his. Several finished bags that were enchanted to be very roomy lay on one table, a half-finished cloak awaiting fancy embroidery, and two robes waiting for runic embroidery lay on another. He eyed them as he dropped his burdens on a clear table, vowing to get to those ‘when he had time’.

Khadgar cracked his knuckles, narrowed his eyes, and got to work. The wrap-robe, first. One that would reflect heat, but not require Medivh to change his entire outfit. Designed to keep him cool in the desert, but when worn under his cloak, would keep him warm in the high mountains where snow and ice held dominance.

It was double-sided; black on one, cream on the other, trimmed in the vermillion, draping just enough to cover, but not to trail. He wove protection enchantments into it as well, just as a little extra precaution. Once it was finished, he hung it with care. One down.

The lounge robes were next. One in the vermillion, trimmed in black, the other blue trimmed in cream. Airy and roomy, meant to double as a blanket with dagged sleeves that could be tied out of the way and broad skirting, one loose in the torso for himself, and one carefully tailored and fitted for Medivh. He eyed the finished products, then set them aside so he could work them with decorative embroidery when he was done in here, as he awaited Medivh’s return home.

He turned back to the rest of the fabric. Bedding. Cream sheets, enchanted for extra absorbency, an enhancement to the satin’s natural cooling and warming properties. Brushed a second time for extra softness. He set the sheets aside, then smiled. Now for the fun part.

Several hours later, he realized that night had fallen as he was putting the finishing touches on the lounge robes, and he wondered where Medivh had gotten to. He bit his lip, shoving down the urge to contact his traveling companions to see what had happened. Medivh would come home. He always came home.

Sure enough, as Khadgar knotted off the last of his embroidery, he heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Slow. Plodding. Tired-sounding.

“Khadgar?” Even Medivh’s voice sounded exhausted.

“Here,” Khadgar called back.

The door to the study opened. “Please, by the Titans, tell me you have taken care of dinner. I need that. Badly. And then a very hot bath.” Medivh looked … awful. His face was smeared with blood and some unidentifiable green ichor, his robes muddy and looked as though he had rolled in any number of unpleasantness. The cloak was torn. The hem of the robes looked like they had been clawed. There were places in the arms and one across the chest where it looked as though he had been slashed by blades – or razor-sharp talons of something or other.

Khadgar was on his feet at once, though checked a few feet away, his nose wrinkling. Not only did Medivh look horrible, but… “What in the hell have you been rolling in?!”

“Parrot poop.” Medivh gave him a longing look. “Don’t ask. Please?”

Khadgar didn’t ask. Instead, he lifted one eyebrow. “Strip. All of it. Just… leave it there, I’ll take care of it.” He left Medivh to do so and headed for the bathing room to get a bath ready. He was tempted to take the older mage back outside or on the balcony, then dump several buckets of water over Medivh before even letting him back in the tower, but the way his hair was tangled and matted, his face forlorn… he could not.

Naked, and not looking _or_ smelling much better than the robes he had worn, the former Guardian joined Khadgar as the younger mage was adding fragrant oil to the bathwater, as well as mineral salts. Medivh gave his lover a look of utter worship before he stepped in with a groan of mingled pain, exhaustion and relief.

Khadgar went to get soaps and towels, set the towels away from the tub, then settled beside it with the rest of the toiletries in his lap for when Medivh was ready. “Anything else you need?”

“No,” Medivh moaned softly. “No, this is… this is heaven.” He closed his eyes and leaned back, sinking into the water up to his chin. “Thank you,” he said softly, but sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” Khadgar replied, just as softly, and just as sincerely.

There was a comfortable silence between them for some time as Medivh soaked away bruises, minor cuts and scrapes, and muscle aches from his adventures. Khadgar asked nothing, and Medivh did not offer any information. There was time for all that later.

Finally, Medivh slid himself down to completely immerse himself, coming up with a sharp gasp. Without a word, Khadgar held out a bottle of shampoo, which Medivh took, then scrubbed his hair and scalp with almost brutal force, then submerged again, coming up with a sigh. The shampoo was exchanged for a bar of fragrant soap and a cloth.

As Medivh scrubbed his skin nearly raw, Khadgar set down the shampoo and moved with a second bottle to work a conditioning lotion into Medivh’s wet hair, his fingers gentle as they carded through the dark strands, fingertips massaging the scalp. Medivh paused in his washing to lean back and enjoy the ministrations, eyes closed, and soft sighs and the occasional little moan telling Khadgar without words how good it felt.

Rather than let him dunk his head into the rapidly soiling water, Khadgar filled a pitcher to pour over Medivh’s clean hair, carding his fingers through to make sure all of the conditioner was out of it, then squeezed it of excess water before tying it up and out of Medivh’s way. He stole the cloth from Medivh’s fingers to scrub the back of his neck and his back as Medivh leaned to pull the drain plug.

As Medivh stood, Khadgar applied another several pitchers of water as the water drained away, carrying water that was redder than Khadgar liked – but he was certain most of it was _not_ Medivh’s.

He handed Medivh towels, and removed the tie from his hair, then left the bathroom. There was no time like now for one of his gifts, after all.

He returned as Medivh was toweling his hair, the rest of him now clean, dry and looking better. Khadgar eyed him for new scars, and only found one along his side, but it was aging – he must have missed it some days ago, and the expertly healed flesh told him just who had tended it. He smiled to himself. He had been right to surreptitiously send a healer and her husband to watch over his lover.

Medivh draped one of the towels on the rim of the tub, the other he dropped onto the floor to step out on. As he did, he looked up at Khadgar, his eyes full of life once again. Khadgar set a pair of woolen slippers down in front of him, and as he stepped into them, he opened his mouth to speak, then his jaw dropped a little at what Khadgar held out to him, smiling shyly.

The robe of deep vermillion shined softly in the torch- and lamp-light. It caught the soft blue embroidery of Khadgar’s sigil-signature on one of the sleeves, and the abstract swirls that surrounded it. It was a whim, a signature to signify who created the robe… and a tiny bit of possessive wimsy.

Medivh took the robe, running his hands along the fabric, his fingers tracing the embroidery. He swallowed, looked up at Khadgar, then pulled the robe on and fastened it (noting the frog-toggle closures were small gold feathers), running his hands down the sides and the skirting and reveling in it.

It took him another moment to realize Khadgar had changed – wearing a similar, though slightly looser robe in blue, embroidered with red, and his own sigil-signature on the sleeve.

His mouth worked for a moment, then he shook his head and pulled Khadgar into a close embrace, speaking for him his thanks and his astonishment.

“Wild fowl and vegetables, slow-roasted, for dinner?” Khadgar breathed against his ear.

Medivh could only nod at first; it took a moment more for him to find his voice. “That sounds like heaven.”

Once they had eaten and cleaned up, Khadgar let Medivh go up to their bedroom over the study first, his heart beating in his throat as Medivh approached the bed, and stopped.

The quilted comforter was not the same one that had been on the bed that morning. Nor were the sheets gleaming the way these were. Deep vermillion trimmed along the edges in black, the comforter was thick and inviting, the quilted pattern the same as the pattern in Medivh’s favorite robe, pulled and darted in the same way. The corners held embroidered feathers in black, highlighted in blue. The pillowcases were trimmed in blue, and a couple of purely decorative cushions had been added – one in blue and cream, the other in vermillion and black.

Khadgar had been proud of his work, and now looked at Medivh, hoping his lover approved.

Instead of commenting, Medivh approached the bed, running his hand along the comforter, reverently, then reached to turn the bed down, his hand running along the cream sheets the same way. He then turned, looking at Khadgar with over-bright emerald eyes and a smile that melted Khadgar’s heart.

Slowly, deliberately, he undid the fastenings of his robe, letting it pool draped over the chair beside his side of the bed, his approval rather apparent as he toed his slippers off. He slid onto, then _into_ the bed, moaning softly and squirming a little in luxurious approval, eyes closed in bliss.

And then he looked at Khadgar, his eyes far more heated than they were. “Well? I’m not going to test them on my own,” he purred.

Khadgar slipped out of his own robe, likewise draping it on the chair on his side and sliding his feet out of slippers, and sliding into the bed.

He was engulfed almost at once by a very enthusiastic pair of arms, and drowned immediately after in a deep kiss.

“You are my sanity,” he said softly, repeating words he had said earlier that morning, one hand disentangling itself and the lights dimmed, leaving the room illuminated by moonlight outside the windows, turning the room blue-white with hints of violet from the stained glass.

“And you are mine,” Khadgar replied.

“Did you do all of this today?”

“I did.”

“You continue to amaze me.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

Another kiss. Another embrace.

They took their time appreciating the soft satin bedding.

…and it was some time before they actually slept in its – and each other’s – embrace.


End file.
